


The Sweetest Thing

by madrefiero



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Deaf Clint Barton, M/M, Sex Work, Sugar Daddy, WinterHawk Bingo, but it starts with borderline sex worker bucky, clint is kinda nasty, i'm not even sorry, it's supposed to be a sugar daddy fic, not even a little, sugar daddy clint barton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:07:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23941285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madrefiero/pseuds/madrefiero
Summary: WinterHawk Bingo - Square G1, Sugar Daddy AUBucky had been slinging drinks for almost an hour whenhewalked up to the bar. He had an easy smile, an expensive suit, and didn't even try to hide the way he gave Bucky a once over as he approached. Buck wasn't stupid, he knew what he looked like, and he worked that to his advantage behind the bar. He turned to grab the bottle of Stoli a pretty redhead asked for, and took those few seconds to bite his lips pink before turning back. He slid the woman her drink, then turned his charm on Mr. Blinding Smile."What can I get for you, gorgeous?"
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 15
Kudos: 162
Collections: Winterhawk Bingo





	The Sweetest Thing

Another Saturday night, another long-ass night behind the stick. Bucky couldn't complain though, he'd make killer tips tonight, and he had student loans and medical bills to pay off. Some hoity-toity rich guy was having a party and rented out the whole joint. He could tell just by looking at them, most of the guests had more money than sense. Hell, he might be able to get more than tips. If he played his cards right tonight, he could make enough to pay this month's rent. 

Bucky had been slinging drinks for almost an hour when _he_ walked up to the bar. He had an easy smile, an expensive suit, and didn't even try to hide the way he gave Bucky a once over as he approached. Buck wasn't stupid, he knew what he looked like, and he worked that to his advantage behind the bar. He turned to grab the bottle of Stoli a pretty redhead asked for, and took those few seconds to bite his lips pink before turning back. He slid the woman her drink, then turned his charm on Mr. Blinding Smile. 

"What can I get for you, gorgeous?" Bucky looked up at him and licked his lips. The guy watched his tongue, and he couldn't help but lean in a little closer.

"Martini. Shaken? Stirred? Spit in?" He looked Bucky over more intently then, slipping a twenty dollar bill into the tip jar, but with a smile that said he didn't really care how it was mixed. 

Bucky smiled while he set to work making the drink. He poured all the ingredients into the shaker, over ice, and shook it in a way that mimicked jerking off. That definitely had Blondie's attention. He poured it into the glass, garnished it with a lemon peel and held the drink close to his own mouth. He thought about how he'd tipped him a twenty before even seeing him make the drink, and decided he'd see if he could get a little more out of him.

"I'll spit in it for a hundred bucks if you want."

"Where's the ATM?" He laughed, and for a second Bucky wondered if he was serious or not. 

Either way, he pulled his wallet out and reached to tuck a crisp hundred into the tip jar. Bucky's eyes twinkled with mischief as he plucked the bill from between his fingers, shoved it into his pocket, and spit into the cocktail. He raised his eyebrow in a silent dare as he then slid the glass over to him. He looked stunned for half a second, but held Bucky's gaze as he drank it down in just a couple of swallows. Then it was Bucky's turn to look stunned.

"I like it dirty," the man winked and gestured to his empty glass. "Very dirty. Let's see what else you can do…?" 

"My friends call me Bucky, but you can call me whatever you want," he gave a devilish grin and took the glass.

"I'm Clint," the blond man leaned in close enough Bucky swore he felt his stubble graze his jaw, and spoke low and rough. "But you can call me Daddy."

Not normally one to blush, Bucky felt his cheeks heat up over being looked at like he was tonight's dinner. The guy was clearly loaded, probably kinky as hell, and gorgeous if a little rough around the edges. He was probably at least fifteen years older than Bucky, and that was just the icing on the cake. Clint was a wet dream come true, and while it could get him fired if he got caught, Bucky wasn't above blowing him in the back room to make a little extra cash. Hell, he wouldn't mind this guy buying him for the whole fucking weekend like in Pretty Woman. 

"How dirty are we talking here? Because I can get downright nasty." 

He was already making another drink, grateful that most of the folks here were drinking glass after glass from the fancy champagne fountains rather than waiting at the bar. Normally he'd be worried about tips, Clint was keeping his tip jar full. He poured up the drink and held it out to him only to pull it back before he could take it, allowing himself a little sip of it. 

"What's it going to be, big spender?"

"Well I swallowed your spit before I got your name, so clearly I've got to ask for something more this time." He reached for his drink and when Bucky pulled it away again, he gave a stern look. "Oh, you're a bratty little thing, aren't you? Tease me again and I'll have to take you over my knee."

Bucky pouted but acquiesced, sliding the drink over. He was tempted to call his bluff though, the thought of being manhandled and spanked sending a thrill straight to his dick. What could he do to up the ante here? Clearly anything more than what he'd already done would risk his job, but he had a good feeling about this. Or maybe he was just that hot for this guy. Either way, he was going all in tonight, in the hopes that Clint would go all in him later. 

"Well _Daddy_ , have you ever heard of a shot called a Used Condom?" He was already reaching for the Vanilla McGillicuddy. 

If Clint was affected, he didn't show it. "I have. You're missing the Tequila Rose." Not breaking eye contact, Clint fished two, crisp, hundred dollar bills from his wallet and leaned across the bar to tuck them into Bucky's front pocket.

"Looks like we don't have any here. I better go get some from the back."

He poured the vanilla schnapps into the shot glass and carried it into the back room. He looked for a secluded spot, somewhere he could hide between stacked boxes. Once he was hidden and sure there was no one to find him, he worked open his jeans with one hand and gave his dick a squeeze. On one hand, he couldn't believe what he was about to do. On the other, he really wasn't surprised. He had bills to pay and he knew what he was good at. He could charm his way into damn near anyone's pants if he tried.

Bucky closed his eyes and stroked slowly at first, working himself up until he was achingly hard. Knowing he only had a few minutes before someone came looking for him, he quickly set a rhythm, tugging and jerking his cock while he imagined how hot it would be to let Clint fuck his mouth. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth, worrying the supple flesh until it was raw and red, while his hand stroked up the length of his cock. He thought about Clint bending him over his knee and spanking him before eating him out. He wondered what his dick would feel like inside him. He would bet it was nice and big, and would make him forget his own name. He was imagining how good it would feel to have it ramming up against his prostate over and over and over, when he felt that delicious pressure at the base of his spine. He did his best to hold the shot glass steady, but the first spurt missed. He managed to catch some though and smirked at his handiwork. He set the glass down and cleaned up his mess as well as his hands. When he walked back into the room behind the bar, his face was still flushed and his breath hadn't quite returned to normal. If anyone was paying him the slightest bit of attention, it would be obvious what he'd been doing in the back room. Lucky for him, Clint was still the only one there. 

"One Used Condom shot for my favorite customer." He grinned, lopsided and lazy, his most immediate need sated for the moment.

Clint, to his credit, didn't flinch. Much to Bucky's surprise, he not only downed the shot, but then ran his tongue along the rim to collect the few drops of come that didn't quite make it into the glass. Once it was clean, he set it down on the bar and held Bucky's gaze. Bucky guessed this was some fucked up game of chicken, but he sure as fuck wasn't in the mood to lose. If he kept the game going, neither of them would lose. He could see Clint's wheels turning, trying to come up with something else Bucky might do for a bit of cash. 

"Listen, pal," Bucky drawled and rolled his eyes just a little. "Or 'Daddy' if you prefer. I can come up with a whole list of ways you can spend money on me. And all of them end up with your dick inside me."

Clint smirked, blue eyes full with equal parts mirth and lust. "How about I pay your boss to pet you out of here now instead of later?"

Bucky laughed and pointed him out. "It's your money...for now." 

He watched Clint walk away, and thought that might be the end of that when he didn't come back immediately. It was half an hour before Bucky's boss came and took his place behind the bar and handed him a note attached to a money clip full of bills. He ran his fingers over the clip, silver encrusted with small amethysts in the shape of an arrow. 

_I hope this can entice you to come home with me. There's a car waiting out front that will bring you to me. -Clint_

The car was expensive, but less obnoxious than he expected considering the way Clint threw his money around. The seats were supple leather, and fuck if it wasn't the nicest car he'd ever been in. The ride was short, ending at a hotel that cost more for one night than two months of Bucky's rent. The concierge greeted him and sent him up a private elevator to the penthouse. When the doors opened, there was Clint, having ditched his jacket and tie, with the first two buttons on his shirt opened. He had a glass in hand, scotch or bourbon from the looks of it. Bucky thought he looked right out of a goddamned James Bond movie, and guessed that made him the Bond Girl. 

"I wasn't sure you'd actually come or if you were just flirting for tips," Clint put the glass down and raked his fingers through his hair, leaving it mussed in a way that was more endearing tha sexy. 

"Yeah, well, I'm a slut for pretty blonds who throw money at me." Bucky sauntered over to him and drank the rest of what was in the glass. Not just scotch, but expensive scotch. Macallan if he had to guess. 

Clint took the empty glass from him and put it down again, then looked Bucky over like he was the only thing he'd ever wanted. He draped his arms around Clint's neck and had to push up into his toes to kiss him. Shit he was even taller than Bucky realized and it only made him that much more into this. He loved feeling small and being manhandled. He probably would have come here with him even if he hadn't been paid for it. He was just getting into the kiss, licking into Clint's mouth when he felt Clint's hands on his cheeks, pushing him back just a bit. 

"What is it? Having second thoughts?" Bucky tried to push forward again, letting one hand drift down Clint's chest to pop another button. 

Clint leaned in and let his stubble scratch against Bucky's jaw and sucked softly just below it, then sat on the nearby couch, pulling him into his lap. "Not at all. I just want to make sure we're on the same page." 

Clint rested his hands on Bucky's thighs and gave them a squeeze. In turn, Bucky very deliberately wiggled on his lap, nipping at his earlobe. "We're definitely on the same page unless you don't want to fuck me into next week. That money clip you gave me had enough cash to pay for my next two months of rent. You can do whatever you want to me." He was getting hard just thinking about it, and this gorgeous man was still somehow hesitant. Bucky was starting to wonder if he really was having second thoughts.

"Sweetheart, if you'll just cooperate and let me finish what I'm trying to ask here, I'll fuck you until you cant remember your own name, only mine." He felt Clint's fingers thread through his hair then, making a tight fist and giving an experimental little tug. Bucky whimpered and teased another button open. God, he wanted to get his mouth on him so bad. Clint chuckled low and held Bucky's chin in his free hand, making him look at him. "Yeah, I gave you a wad of cash, that doesn't mean I'm going to take advantage of you. What I'm asking is, do you have any hard limits, triggers, or anything else I might need to worry about while I'm taking care of you?"

He was dead serious, and clearly not intent on doing anything until he had Bucky's answer. And damn if that didn't make Bucky's tummy do a little flip-flop. He wasn't used to the men he fucked around with caring about what he wanted. He never thought a conversation about limits and consent could be such a turn on, but based on the way his hips canted against Clint's, it definitely was. 

"No one's ever asked me that before," Bucky whispered against Clint's mouth, just before he nibbled on his lip. "Don't hit my face. My ass and thighs are fair game. And I don't like to be degraded." Not that he hasn't had it happen...or even let it happen, but he hated it. It put him in a bad headspace for days afterward. He hated being told he was just a worthless fucktoy, only good to be used and tossed aside after. He didn't realize he was frowning until Clint kissed his furrowed brow.

"See, there's a good boy. I like knowing what you don't like so I don't do it. Now, is there anything in particular that you _do_ like? I want this to be as fun for you as it is for me." Bucky preened at the praise, and huh, that was new.

"I liked when you pulled my hair. I love being bitten and marked up. God, if you bite the back of my neck and pull my hair at the same time I'd probably come on the spot." Bucky had his eyes closed while he imagined Clint sucking bruises all over him, when he felt teeth scraping down the side of his throat. He shivered and tilted his head when Clint's fist tightened in his hair."

"Anything else, sweetheart?" Clint's mouth was soft and wet and left a trail of heat everywhere it touched. He kept biting and soothing the same spot until Bucky was squirming on his lap.

"I really liked it when you told me I was good earlier. I didn't know I liked that."

Clint gave a satisfied hum against his skin like he already knew it, and that did something weird to Bucky`s insides. He wanted to hear more noises like that from Clint, and he would do whatever he needed to make them happen. 

“Thank you for telling me. You`re so good for answering my questions. For telling me how to make you feel so good.”

Bucky's cheeks heated when Clint praised him, and before he could reply, Clint placed both hands on his ass and pulled him down against his lap, pushing his own hips up. The friction was unexpected and just right, and yet not even close to being enough. He tugged Clint's shirt impatiently, eager to get it off him, accidentally sending the last to buttons flying. Clint tutted at him and gripped his wrists, pinning them behind his back with one hand. 

"Not fair...want to touch you," Bucky whined, struggling, but not really, to free himself. 

Clint laughed and gripped him tighter, using his free hand to open Bucky's shirt. He scratched lightly at his chest and down his abdomen, his eyes never leaving Bucky's face. He loved watching every single change in his expression, noting what got the best reactions. He leaned in and sucked on his collarbone while he gave Bucky's nipple a sharp tug, and Bucky let out the most sinful moan that Clint ever heard. 

"You're a needy little thing aren't you, sweetheart?" 

Clint released his hold, and suddenly Bucky's hands were everywhere. He ran them through the unruly blond hair, down the sides of his face, only then noticing the hearing aids Clint wore. He paused for a second, and Clint's face fell like he knew what might come next. God, Bucky knew that look all too well except most of the time he was the one wearing it. When Bucky didn't back away, when there was no sudden excuse to leave, rather soft kisses just below his ears, Clint's face lit up. Bucky didn't explain with words. He shrugged out of his shirt, exposing the angry red scars where his prosthetic arm met his chest. He took a breath before looking up at Clint through his lashes. At least he'd already gotten paid in case he changed his mind. Clint's expression softened into something he couldn't quite place. It wasn't pity or disgust. It was just...warmth. 

"Oh sweetheart," Clint reached up to brush his fingertips over the scarring, pausing long enough for Bucky to stop him.

"It's okay, you can touch me."

Clint touched him softly, tracing the patterns of the scarring with his fingers, then following the same path with his lips. He ran his hands over the metal plates, seemingly fascinated by the soft whirring when they moved. He must've been too distracted by the prospect of a good fuck to notice the noise before. When Clint reached Bucky's wrist and the flesh-colored silicone that covered his hand, he looked at him curiously. 

"It looks so real. This was custom wasn't it?"

Bucky nodded. "Yeah. I'm still paying for it. I couldn't stand the pitying looks I got from everyone. The staring and questions. No one's ever looked at it like you are right now."

"It's beautiful, just like you."

Bucky felt like his words were all stuck in his throat. Clint was so earnest when he spoke, Bucky felt more exposed than if he'd been laid out naked in the middle of a crowded room. He stood up and turned his back to Clint just long enough to take the glove off and set it out of the way with his shirt. When he turned back to Clint, he held his metal hand out to him and crawled back into his lap. He wrapped his arms around Clint again, nuzzling the underside of his jaw, his voice soft and almost timid when he spoke. 

"Take me to bed, please."

Clint nodded and braced his hands under Bucky's thighs, then stood up, lifting him as if he weighed next to nothing. Bucky hooked his ankles behind Clint, clinging to him while he was carried to the bedroom. His face was buried in the crook of Clint's neck and he breathed in deeply, smiling to himself. Christ, he smelled good. Like expensive scotch, sunshine, and _coffee?_ He was quickly pulled out of those thoughts when he was tipped over and pressed into the mattress. He let out a laugh that Clint swallowed as he crashed into him, caging him in with his arms. Bucky gave as good as he got, not breaking the hold his legs had on Clint, arching up to get as many points of contact as possible. 

"Pushy," Clint murmured against his mouth, but pressed his hips against him anyway. 

Clint kissed him until he could barely breathe, and both of them were rutting against each other still half-clothed. His jeans were beyond uncomfortable, tented at the zipper, and far too constricting. He needed them off and he needed them off yesterday. 

“Pant’s...need them off, please. Need to feel you.”

Much to his chagrin, Clint didn’t rid him of them immediately. He seemed intent on testing his patience every step of the way. He left a trail of bite marks down the side of Bucky’s throat down to his collarbone. He sucked bruises where he didn’t bite, then scraped his teeth over each nipple before sucking until Bucky was a whimpering mess. He was so close to begging it wasn’t even funny, but fuck he needed to be touched. He rolled his hips up, searching for even the smallest amount of relief, but Clint had him pinned so he couldn’t quite get the friction he needed. He felt Clint’s mouth moving lower, the velvet heat of his tongue leaving flames everywhere it touched. He kissed just below his navel, no doubt leaving another mark to be appreciated later. Then finally, Bucky felt his hands working open his jeans. Clint teased them down slowly, nipping sharply at his hip bones, and Bucky thought he would combust. When his jeans were finally in a messy pile on the floor, and the cool night air hit his dick, he made a punched out sound that had Clint smiling down at him hungrily. 

“Goddamn, sweetheart, you make the most beautiful noises for me.”

It was only when he was pushing his hips up into the air, his body acting on its own accord, that Clint finally touched him. He was vaguely aware that Clint still had on too many clothes, but the thought was lost when the mouth that spent the last half hour marking him, suddenly swallowed him down to the hilt. If Clint thought the sounds Bucky made before were beautiful, this was something else entirely. He keened high and loud, both hands scrabbling to grip the sheets as if they could somehow ground him in the moment. Clint didn’t hold back either, taking him deep and sucking hard, while his tongue flicked and flitted over the length of him. 

“Clint, Clint, fuck _OH FUCK_ ,” was the closest thing to a warning he managed to choke out before he was coming down Clint’s throat. Clint swallowed around him, working him through his orgasm until it was just the right side of too much. 

“You’re so good for letting me do that. I’ve been thinking about getting your cock in my mouth since you came in that shot you poured me.” Christ, even Clint’s praise was filthy. “And you’re so pretty when you come, sweetheart. You should see yourself. If you can come again just like that, I’ll buy you anything you want.”

Bucky was still shaking when Clint licked into his mouth, the taste of his release thick on his tongue. Clint’s kisses were every bit as dirty as his words, and it didn’t take long for Bucky to start groping at him needily. Being young had its perks, and a relatively short refractory period was one of them. He was eager to get his mouth on Clint to repay the favor, but Clint was having none of it. He seemed intent on taking Bucky apart completely first. Clint went back to work sucking marks and biting all over Bucky. His mouth was rough and insistent, every mark burning into his skin, but anytime he strayed close to the scarring on Bucky’s chest and shoulder, he was soft and gentle, almost reverent in the way he kissed him. By the time Clint turned him onto his stomach he was half-hard again. He didn’t have time to dwell on that before Clint had his cheeks spread, licking eagerly at his hole.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Clint.” He trailed off into a series of moans, pushing his hips back against Clint’s mouth.

Clint circled his hole, then teased him mercilessly, easing just the tip inside him. He licked and laved until Bucky was squirming against him, then dragged his teeth over the supple flesh of his ass, leaving a fresh mark there. When Clint’s tongue found him again, he wrapped his hand around him at the same time, stroking him so slowly Bucky thought he was going to die. 

“Clint, please,” he whined, hips jerking against Clint’s hand, then back against his mouth.

“Please what, sweetheart?” Goddamn it all, he was smug and rightfully so. He hadn’t even been fucked yet, and already Bucky knew this was the best sex of his life.

“Want you inside me...please.”

“Hmm, not yet. I think I want to make you come again first.” 

Clint licked into him again, this time devouring him like Bucky was his last meal, and all Bucky could do was whimper in response. If Clint wanted him to come, he would. He wanted to do exactly what the man asked him and he wanted to bask in all the filthy praise he’d get in return. Spurred on by the sounds Bucky was making, Clint was a blur of tongue and teeth in all the right places, his hand working Bucky’s dick with an expert touch. His fingertips were calloused, and when the rough patches ghosted over the sensitive spot on the underside of his tip, Bucky’s hips snapped forward, chasing the touch. Clint obliged by doing it again, then let him fuck into his fist. The more desperate Bucky became, the quicker Clint stroked him. When his thighs started to shake, Clint slid his tongue in as far as he could and fucked him with it until Bucky was thrusting desperately into Clint’s fist. When he came, his cries were garbled and unintelligible, but he coated Clint’s hand and the sheet below him with come, letting Clint milk him dry. Clint rolled him over onto his back before he collapsed into his mess, sitting up on his knees to look at him. He was still dressed from the waist down and that really wasn’t fair at all. Bucky wanted to see him too, wanted to feel all of him.

“You’re such a good boy for coming for me again, indulging my whims like that.” Clint’s smile was lopsided and probably more endearing than it should be for someone Bucky was on the verge of begging to fuck him stupid. “Are you good? Do you need a break?”

Bucky was good, so fucking good, but his brain wouldn’t word. He was afraid if he couldn't reply, that Clint would stop this on the spot, so he uttered the only thing his mouth and brain agreed would get his message across. “Green.” It only dawned on him when Clint chuckled that they hadn’t discussed any sort of traffic light anything. He hoped to whatever deity was listening that his message was loud and clear. 

“Good, that’s good, Bucky. Because as long as you’re good with it, I’d really like to fuck you. Do you want that?”

“Please fuck me...I think I want your dick more than I want your money.”

Clint laughed outright at that, but leaned up to steal a kiss while he pulled a small bottle of lube from his pocket. “You can have both, I’ve got plenty.”

And there was that cocky smirk again. Bucky was about to crack a joke when Clint finally stripped away the rest of his clothes. He wasn’t joking, his dick was… well, it was a fucking work of art is what it was. It was long and thick, standing proudly, and Bucky wanted to ride it into the sunset. He licked his lips like he wanted to choke on it first, and Clint smiled almost bashfully at him, as if he could read his thoughts.

“I’m not as young as you, so if you want to get fucked, I’ll have to let you suck me off at breakfast.”

Bucky wasn’t sure what to say to that, but before he could worry about words again, a lube coated finger pressed into him. Clint kept it shallow at first, easing in first to one knuckle and pulling out, then to two. After a few shallow thrusts, he pushed in all the way, smiling when he felt Bucky clench around it. When he relaxed Clint rewarded him with another finger, pushing in deep and slow until he found what he was looking for. With those rough fingers against his prostate, Bucky was back to wordless moans. He doubted he’d be able to come again, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the hell out of this. When Clint added a third finger, Bucky was sure he was going to lose his mind. He wasn’t even sure he would be able to handle how good that gorgeous cock was going to feel. His cheeks were flushed pink and all he could do was pant out a couple words at a time, his own dick doing its damndest to prove him wrong.

“M’good, Clint, please. C’mon and get in me.” He reached up to grab at him, surprising even himself with what a needy brat he sounded like.

Clint rolled him onto his back, his cock resting thick and heavy against his overheated skin. He squirted lube into his hand and slicked himself up with it before slowly pushing his way into Bucky’s tight hole. They both needed a second to take a breath, Bucky because it felt so good he could die, and Clint because he was so tightly wound from teasing the pretty young thing beneath him for so long he was sure he was going to come too soon. He used the pause to run his hands all over Bucky. He flicked his nipples, giving both a sharp pinch as he finally bucked his hips. The sound he got in return was nothing short of debauched. If Clint had any doubts about how badly Bucky wanted it, they were gone the second he opened his mouth. Clint did it again, thrusting harder the next time and the one after that, each of Bucky’s cries spurring him on. He ran his hands back to those perfectly muscled thighs and squeezed, then pushed them apart. 

“You look goddamned perfect all spread out for me, sweetheart. Absolutely fuckin’ perfect.”

Clint leaned forward and covered Bucky’s body with his own. He angled his hips and Bucky arched up until the tip of Clint’s cock was hitting his prostate with every thrust.

“That’s it, sweetheart. You’re so good. You know exactly what I want you to do, don’t you? Still good?”

Bucky had a tight grip on Clint, the short nails on his right hand digging into Clint’s shoulder, while his left kept a bruising hold on Clint’s hip. Clint reached up and pulled hard on his hair, not letting up on the brutal assault on Bucky’s sweet spot. The poor thing could barely form a coherent thought, much less verbalize it. 

“Green green green green, fuck Clint, please don’t stop. Please, Clint, please.”

“Oh, that’s such a good boy. Can you come one more time? Can you do that for me?”

Clint was barely hanging on, but the way Bucky was begging had him greedy for more. He could feel Bucky’s half-hard cock between them, surely overly sensitive after coming twice already. He kept himself buried inside him, giving sharp little thrusts that kept up almost constant pressure on his prostate. He sucked another deep mark onto Bucky’s fair skin and looked forward to admiring it in the morning after the color had a chance to deepen. Only when the younger man was shaking did Clint let go. He pounded into him hard and fast, whispering praises into his ear, until Bucky was coming, dry. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes, and he choked out a stream of “Clint, Clint, Clint.” 

“That’s right, say my name, sweetheart. You’re so pretty when you come.”

It only took a few more thrusts before Clint was coming too, filling him to the brim until he could barely hold himself up. He pressed a lingering kiss to Bucky’s lips, then nipped his way down his jaw and left teeth marks at the juncture where his neck met his shoulder. Finally, he slipped out of him, causing Bucky to let out a bereft little whine, then wrapped him up in his arms and pulled the blanket over them. 

“Get some sleep, sweetheart. Tomorrow, I’m going to spoil you with whatever you want.”

It was three weeks later before Bucky showed back up to work, dressed in designer clothes and with a stretch limo waiting out front for him. His boss lit into him immediately about responsibility, and how much he hated dealing with “entitled millennials.” Bucky just waited on him to finish, a shit-eating grin wide on his face. And then he quit. 

“You can send my last paycheck here.” He handed him the paper with Clint’s penthouse apartment address listed on it, turned on his heel and walked out. He didn’t need his last paycheck, but he wanted to make sure the old guy knew it. Clint was waiting patiently when he climbed back into the car, and promptly pulled him into his lap. 

“Now you have more time to spend with me. And to spend my money. Speaking of…” He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and dropped them into Bucky’s palm. 

“Clint, you’ve given me too much already. I told you, you don’t have to keep doing this.”

“I want to. You make me happy, and I like buying you things. Unless you want me to return it?”

Bucky clutched the keys to his chest. “No, I love it. You make me happy too.”


End file.
